


Loved The Stars Too Fondly

by sian1359



Series: Tales Of Known Space (MCU) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Space, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 15:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12986805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359
Summary: Just freed from Hydra, Bucky finds a new home, a new purpose, and a new love.





	1. Art and Story

**Author's Note:**

> So many notes.
> 
> Moodboards are courtesy of spacefoxen and the inspiration for all of what follows.
> 
> Title and poem snippet are from "The Old Astronomer" by Sarah Williams; the idea of using it came from the artist I was so fortunate to pick in this year's reverse big bang.
> 
> There is much more to this story; this 'verse. I will certainly be writing more, as may my artist. The title Tales of Known Space that I'm using for this 'verse is the title of a Larry Niven collection of connected stories and essays.
> 
> Auburnnothenna again saved my ass with a last minute beta; Himself helped out with the science. Anything screwed up afterward is all my fault.
> 
> For those interested in world building, Chapters Two and Three contains a map of the Solar System and the largest of the bases and colonies that make up the Unity of Terran Colonies. It also contains a basic timeline of Earth's expansion into the Solar System, the technologies and advancements that made the expansion possible, and certain major happenings that most affected the expansion.
> 
> I have drawn inspiration from a variety of sources in creating this 'verse. Firstly, from my artist. Beyond the moodboards, she had some ideas of things she would enjoy seeing in a story. I, myself, do not consider this a 'Solarpunk' story, but I did try to draw in elements of that sub-genre of writings. Secondly, while I am an adherent of the television series "The Expanse", I used it more as an anti-inspiration, so far as the politics and conditions of living on the colonies. It's an Avengers story, from a world that had the Starks. So certain problems have been solved. As more stories get written, I am sure I will co-op other visions and 'verse; I am old and have read/watched much science fiction in my life. It's impossible to imagine I will come up with things out of whole cloth.
> 
> I am still working on getting the art to embed. In the meantime, a link to it is here:  
>  http://spacefoxen.tumblr.com/post/168428489874/villainny-spacefoxen-moodboard-for

_Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;_

_I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night._

"On this twenty-seventh day of March, in the year of Two Thousand Three Hundred and Twenty-Eight, it is the ruling of this court that the government of Hydra Station has been found guilty of kidnapping, unlawful restraint, felonious assault, and purposeful extortion. As we cannot imprison a State, and because all of the original perpetrators who recovered and then delivered James Buchanan Barnes to Hydra Station are deceased, the penalties normally handed down for such crimes are herewith converted to monetary damages to compensate Sergeant Barnes for each day of his imprisonment, to cover the costs of all future mental and physical health needs from the assault and subsequent mistreatment, and to penalize Hydra for the blatant extortion they perpetrated through onerous and usury charges designed to insure that Sergeant Barnes could never pay back the indenture Hydra unlawfully created for his rescue, his subsequent medical expenses, and his living expenses for the past thirty-three years. Compensatory damages totaling thirteen million credits are hereby awarded. Additional, punitive damages shall be at the maximum, totaling fifty million credits. Three million credits must be rendered to Sergeant Barnes by the end of the day tomorrow, with all remaining damages paid out in sixty monthly payments of one million credits each to a trust set up in Sergeant Barnes' name.

"Furthermore, as Hydra, in violation of its membership, has proven faithless in upholding various tenants of the Unity of Terran Colonies, throughout the next year, it must permit Union-appointed inspectors unfettered access to any and all of its holdings for the purpose of searching out and interviewing its citizens to insure no similar injustices are taking place. Failure to do so will open Hydra up to any number of sanctions that may be imposed by the member states in the Union. So sayeth this Court, which is now adjourned."

Bucky stood there stunned, accepting Murdock's and then Nelson's handshakes, and the congratulations from Cage and Rand who'd sat in the witness chairs for the entirety of the proceeding although they'd both been called upon to testify the first day and were then done. It wasn't so much that Bucky couldn’t believe that Nelson and Murdock had won; they seemed to be very good at their jobs. No, what he was having trouble absorbing was he would now be allowed to do what he wanted, go where he wanted, beginning … well, beginning immediately. He was free.

Also rich, apparently, though that couldn't match the weight of freedom, despite it being the lack of funds that had nominally kept Bucky indentured to Hydra for the last three decades.

Glancing over at Hydra's representative, Helmut Zemo, amidst his handful of lawyers, and seeing his murderous glare sweep over his people before coming to rest on Bucky, helped cement things, including that he'd made a new enemy. Bucky had fought a war full of enemies, however, including some of the men Zemo worked for, so earning one more didn't really concern him. He had no intention of ever going near Hydra's holdings – or Jupiter itself – again.

Things got even more surreal when one of the judges came toward the applicant's table instead of retreating out of the room with the others.

At the start of the proceeding, Nelson had identified all of those who'd be deciding Bucky's fate, one from each of the major bases or colonies that made up the Unity of Terran States. So he was able to greet the judge from New Valhalla by name and thank her directly, while hoping it wasn't too obvious that he was also looking for some evidence that she wasn't human.

If there were significant differences, he couldn't tell. She looked human and if he saw her in a crowd, the only thing that might make her stand out was her white facial tattoos and that she moved like a soldier, not a civilian.

"Sergeant Barnes," Brunnehilde greeted him and offered her hand while nodding toward Nelson and Murdock.

"Judge," he responded, having no idea of how to greet her when he'd only been told what he thought was her first name. He wasn't sure why she'd come over either; not that he'd had much experience with this level of the law in his past, but he didn't think judges usually came out to talk to even the side who'd won in most trials or lawsuits.

"I wanted to personally offer you a place on New Valhalla," she began, with a warm smile. "We would be honored to have you. And would waive the immigration requirements. It would appear rather inappropriate, after all, given the reason you now need a new place to live," she added with a little laugh that Bucky didn't understand any more than he did the immigration requirements reference.

But his mother didn't raise him to be an asshole.

"Thank you. Your offer is very generous," he replied. "I have many things to think about, thanks to you and the court." He'd ask his lawyers about immigration requirements, or one of the SHIELD agents, Cage or Rand. He'd been requested to stay here on the SHIELD Station for a few weeks in an extended debrief, and in return they'd promised to help bring him up to speed on things Hydra had never bothered to let him learn, such as how an alien race had made contact fifty-five years ago and now co-inhabited one of Earth's major space stations.

"And enough money to help you make your decisions," she said with a broad smile, though it faded quickly. "Most of us felt you deserved ten times more, but there are rules and limits on monetary awards for civil disputes built into the Constitution."

For just a moment she had a look that said she was no stranger to ignoring rules she didn't like, but almost before Bucky could even acknowledge what he'd seen, her expression turned formal and somewhat fierce.

"It is also regrettable that no one is going to jail for their crimes against you, but I do agree with your advocates, getting you freed of Hydra was more important than getting you full justice –"

"Judge –" Nelson cautioned. "You can't just – "

"My turn in this Court is over, Mr. Nelson. I have adjudicated my last case and can now say anything I damn well please about it, or my real opinions on Hydra, and I can even finally ask you out for a night of revelry, Mr. Nelson," she informed them with flashing eyes and a wicked smile.

"Judge!" Nelson repeated, this time in a squeaky exclamation.

"She's kidding, Foggy," Murdock reassured his partner.

"I don’t have to be, if you are interested," she offered. "But neither do I wish to make you feel uncomfortable or put you on the spot, Councilor. So I will take my leave of you gentlemen, but with this invitation. I'm hosting a departure party all evening at the Arena, on the Concourse level. You three and any guests you'd like to bring are welcome. It should be good liquor, good company, and good times.  An opportunity, Sergeant, for me to tell you more about why you should consider making New Valhalla your home, but also an opportunity for you to ask about other prospects in an environment where you won't be the guy Hydra's kept as a slave for thirty plus years."

Yeah, that was going to get old real quickly. But it was a hell of a better thing to stress about than any problem he'd had yesterday.

***********

"You spend much time here," a raspy voice broke the silence.

Bucky had heard the steps coming up the stairwell into the observation dome so he wasn't startled, but he was surprised that someone else had bothered to come up to the observation dome now, when they were only hours out from their end point. The _Mar-vell_ was outfitted to carry passengers as well as cargo, yet for this trip Captain Danvers hadn't waited around to fill the berths, transporting only two others in addition to Bucky. Initial introductions had been made between them, but in the five days the _Mar-vell_ sped from SHIELD Station's orbit around Jupiter to Neo Wakanda in its synchronous orbit with Mars, Bucky had only come across the ship's crew during his wanderings away from his cabin.

"You belter?" Klaue asked in the patois of those born in one of the settlements spread throughout the Asteroid Belt, his accent heavy, as he fully entered the dimly lit room Bucky _had_ been spending most of his time in during the trip. "That how arm got lost?"

Bucky sat up, not willing to stay reclined and at a disadvantage even if Klaue seemed to be trying to be friendly. "I've worked the Belt most my life," Bucky responded, his own voice rough. The Hydran overseers had preferred silence or only the most basic of communication on the job, and that was a hard habit to break. He had also been warned by Coulson and Fury to be circumspect about _all_ of his past, not just the business with Hydra. Not that Bucky had ever been that forthcoming with personal details.

Though most people thought of Belters as those who'd been born out there, Bucky wasn't out-and-out lying. He had spent more years working the Belt for Hydra than he'd lived on Earth.

Klaue's eyes narrowed, most likely due to Bucky's own Hydran accent, but Klaue then nodded and held up his left arm with its damaged, obviously artificial hand on its end. "New Cat best place to get fixed."

"New Cat?" Bucky had to ask. He'd know the space station now called Neo Wakanda by its original name, Rursus. In his day it had been the base for Earth's space forces instead of a thriving space colony it had reputedly become.

"Wakanda named for tribe's ancient panther God," Klaue explained, his tone derisive. "New Cat easier said than Neo Wakanda. Plus tops hate it," he added, enunciating Wakanda in the flat tones most associated with how native-born Terrans spoke before relaxing back to his normal accent, a smile breaking across his face over the rest. "Say we be disrespecting, but speech protected there, so nothing they can do."

"You don't like it there?" Not that Bucky cared beyond idle curiosity – or that he didn't know how Klaue would answer. For now, any place that wasn't under Hydra control was as good as another. He wasn't ready to return to Earth, not until he caught himself up on all of the information Hydra had suppressed after they'd found him, already twenty years behind due to cryo sleep.

"Downside be fine. Topside filled with Tops who think they be better than we who work for living," Klaue spat.

Bucky suspected it might be more personal than any systematic bigotry; Captain Danvers and her co-pilot certainly spoke well of Neo Wakanda and they were only cargo haulers themselves, though ones that took government contracts so maybe that was part of it. He could understand how some types of people would side-eye Klaue even before he found his way of fighting back by being _disrespectful_. Even now wearing the under-layer of a spacesuit like Bucky's that was supposed to protect them from unforeseen gravity changes, Klaue looked disheveled, with his unkempt hair and beard and what looked like dirt permanently ground into the creases and lines of his face and hands. Hydra Command had been the opposite – fastidious – insisting that their workers stay clean-shaven, have close cropped hair, and that all work clothes got washed daily.  

When Coulson's second had suggested Bucky take steps to at least change if not disguise his appearance for the first few months in case someone from Hydra held a grudge, he hadn't needed to be convinced to grow his hair out. It was too long now, too easy to fall into his face and get in the way, but he still wasn't quite ready to cut it back. 

"Isn't that the way everywhere?" Bucky posed. "The ones in charge always look down on the ones who aren't?"

Klaue nodded. "You need place to stay, you keep downside. Only ones who rob you there are real thieves, not corps or rich-rich. No doctor yet for your arm, downside places for guys like us. Captain Prissypants will tell-tell respectable places but no good," he warned. "They say chips put inside for diagnostics and maintenances but trackers too, so corps or government can find you." He shook his head. "No business theirs."

Bucky nodded but kept silent. SHIELD had already made the arrangements for him to get a replacement arm not just because Coulson's techhead had found that Hydra had installed trackers within, but because his hacker had found code she couldn't explain. They had feared that Hydra had installed some kind of controls they could use to override his use of it -- or something more since it worked with neural links. 

Bucky certainly hadn't objected. He hadn't questioned it either and maybe he should have. Hydra was most likely not the only repressive regime who'd set up their own space community, just as not everyone who'd worked for Hydra had been oppressive or cruel. Klaue could even be right about New Wakanda keeping tabs on the people who came through their station, but alongside his appearance, Klaue came off as someone who had reasons to avoid government scrutiny beyond just valuing his privacy.

"You want name, you go to Madame Slay on Concourse Level and ask for Solarr. He fix you up quick-quick. You don't got enough creds, he'll take profit cut instead. Even help you find work, but if you _are_ looking, come to me first. I got place for guy like you once I get my ship back. Just look for the _Churchill_."

"Appreciate it," Bucky responded, because he did, even if he also knew that even if he did decide to find work again, it wouldn't be for Ulysses Klaue. Criminal or not, Klaue had little reason to extend an offer of friendship other than his sense of solidarity with fellow Belters.

"Not sure how long everything is going to take. Or what I'm going to do after getting a new arm," Bucky then admitted. "Beyond not going back to where I was."

"They say Pierce has cruel hand," Klaue sympathized while also confirming he had recognized Bucky's accent as being Hydran. "I no saint, but you stay loyal, I treat crew right. Now I leave, with last warning. Topsiders pretend they be dirt-siders. Hide-hide the Black like they ashamed or scared. Mark me, one day soon, down-siders will rise and kick them out. Shame if find you in wrong place. You look, you see-see," he added with a wide gesture to the transparent dome. "Our New Cat deserves better."

As it sounded like a true warning and not a threat, Bucky did nothing but nod in acknowledgement as Klaue left. He should probably mention it to someone, in case it was more than a case of envy or some kind of personal grudge between Klaue and someone involved in running Neo Wakanda. But he saw no reason to mention Klaue by name at this stage. He was no hero. Not even a soldier anymore. His days of trusting anyone were long behind him; Neo Wakanda or New Cat, it would have to earn his trust and loyalty just like any individuals would.

Finally turning his attention back to the galaxy spread out before him, Bucky got his first look at Neo Wakanda as Captain Danvers brought the ship around in a graceful arc. From the talk around SHIELD and just now with Klaue, it had been obvious that the space station no longer looked or operated as it had when Bucky had known it as Rursus, Earth's Space Military Force Base and, God, he was right, but he'd not even been close in his imagination.

Then, the station had looked like an open umbrella, with the populated areas set in concentric rings inside the outer band that had housed the landing bays, the ships and their berth or repair recesses. The handle was spindle shaped, with different bulbs rotating at different rates from each other and the cap, relying on centrifugal force to supply limited gravity whereas gravity plating provided an artificial gravity for the majority of the soldiers and other inhabitants. All of the life-support and mechanical systems had been housed in the spindle: air, water, waste, communications, environmental, and power, with the nearly self-sustaining arc reactor making up the ball at the bottom. Every soldier had spent time in the various levels of the spindle, learning how to repair as well as sabotage the operational controls, and running drills in different gravities including zero-g. Bucky had enjoyed that part of his service, although after spending so long working in the Black, he now suspected he would find such in-station environments claustrophobic even if he could get an apprenticeship as some sort of mechanic.

The spindle still existed. The cap too, Bucky decided, although new skeletal extensions stuck out like unflexed stays added to his umbrella. Most of these extensions clutched ships on the ends although plenty of other ships were disappearing into the old recesses. Including the _Mar-vell_ , it looked like. The shipyard/barracks cap, however, was no longer the highest part of the station, but now lay in the middle. Two more bulbs the size of the one with the arc reactor now crowned the cap, and above those was a new structure, not another open umbrella, but instead something that looked more like a three-tiered pyramid although the top and edges were curved and rounded instead of pointed and sharp. Like the rest of the station, each segment rotated independent of the other. Solar panels trimmed the new additions, making the sunward side of the station glitter and burn enough to cast a glow on the rest and giving the whole thing the look of a moon-size firework sparkler.

"We're on final approach, folks," Captain Danver's voice cut across Bucky's astonishment and awe.

"Take a seat and belt in. Expect our landing in the next half an hour."

*********

Surprisingly, Entry and Immigration processed Bucky through in minutes, leaving him _seriously_ indebted to Agent Coulson and his team. While SHIELD had willingly set him up with a Stark Link, a data communications device configured with his personal data such as his biometrics, health records, and financials, Skye had 'borrowed' it for a few hours, and when Bucky had gotten it back, the number of installed applications and data nodes had tripled, and it had been coded so that only he could make use of it. Notes had been added as to why she'd thought they might be useful, but it was the next couple of hours they'd spent together that made proved invaluable.

Together they had developed a background and history for him; Hydra's unwillingness to share anything of its citizens beyond only what was required by their membership within the Union for once working to someone's advantage. Now Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes had been born on Hydra Base instead of Earth, and in the year 2291 instead of '44, so as to raise fewer questions about his missing years both in cryo-sleep and as Hydra's prisoner. The manager he'd been referred to from the initial E&I clerk had barely blinked at his readout, and while she didn't unbend from the formalities of her position and offer him sympathy, neither did she question or impede his processing. Why a manager (she, after all, had an office, while the clerks all shared an open room and an extended counter), deigned to be the one who integrated his Link with Neo Wakanda's computer matrix, Bucky had no idea, since he wasn't important, and even though he might now be considered rich, Neo Wakanda already counted Tony Stark as a citizen, along with a handful of rivals that would consider Bucky's wealth as chump-change. In the end, he could only attribute this special handling to SHIELD further verifying and vouchsafing Bucky's identity.

_Mar-vell_ 's co-pilot, who'd only introduced herself as Jess, no last name, no rank, throughout the flight, had shown Bucky how to locate Dr. Cho's facility and navigate the various transit systems and maps before he'd disembarked, but Bucky was in no hurry to check himself in, especially not when he could already send the duffle bag holding basic personal essentials on ahead. All he had to his name was the clothing he'd been rescued in, and then the items SHIELD's quartermaster had handed over, along with the ball cap Coulson had given him to go with the synth-skin jacket Coulson's team decided he'd needed to help further his change from the regimented worker Hydra had named Winter into the individualized James Barnes. Bucky wasn't sure what he wanted to buy – the opportunity to choose or have a preference being so novel – but if nothing else, he could get a better feel for the place he was going to call home at least for the next few weeks.

It was only after he'd grown tired of shopping, as Bucky continued to wander through the observation deck overlooking various ship hangers, that he realized he was actively, if subconsciously, avoiding claiming the room he'd been assigned at the medical facility. Mentally kicking himself and preferring to think he wasn't really a coward, Bucky turned to head directly to the nearest transport that would take him to Cho's clinic. His turn, however, positioned him to catch sight of a ship he'd missed previously, and all thoughts of cowardice, leaving, or his arm fled in the face of the little beauty.

Bucky had served on several ships during his years deployed in the Colonies War, but his favorite, not just because it had been captained by his best friend since his primary days, and crewed by the best group of soldiers he could hope to fight alongside, had been his last. The _Howling Commando_. A passion project built by a visionary who had produced a sleek, smart corvette that had the independence and weapons capabilities of a light cruiser. Not, apparently, as unique as Bucky had been led to believe, however, when Howard had declared to Steve that he'd destroyed all of its specs and blueprints because Earth Command were 'being dicks' and no longer deserved the fruits of Stark genius.

The ship below Bucky wasn't an exact replica of the _Commando_ ; if it had any weaponry, they certainly weren't the major systems Howard created for Earth's military and, thus, had more than lived up to his family's legacy. Without any visible weaponry, The _Avenger_ , as it was named by Bucky's Link, was just that much more streamlined, mostly delta-shaped, with what looked like a set of transverse VTOL engines in addition to the EM thrust engines.

He wasn't remotely surprised to see Tony Stark listed by matrix as not only as the owner of the _Avenger_ , but also its designer. From the days when humanity took its first steps from Earth into the Black, the name Stark had been synonymous with the advances so necessary to expand beyond their pale blue dot: the arc reactor which had eventually led to self-sustaining energy; the EM drive that opened all of the bodies in the Solar System and would eventually give them the universe; artificial gravity plating which had enabled Earth's children to thrive in their new environments but not give up their birthright. A handful of robots as well as a trio of kids – two boys and a girl of some indeterminate teen age – swarmed over the ship, directed by a dark-haired adult who, when he shifted from where he crouched over an open panel near the right VTOL engine and gave Bucky a better look, had to be a Stark.

Fitz and Simmons both had spoken with awe about Tony Stark when they'd worked to remove Bucky's Hydra-made prosthetic. Like most of his forebears, the current Stark had not only built on his family's creations, but had carved out his own unique niche by revolutionizing the make-up, construction, and engineering of artificial limbs. The arm Hydra had fitted Bucky with had been a workhorse, more of a human appearing than the heavy, noisy, industrial robot's arm that Bucky operated through neural interfaces, with finger-like appendages that could handle broad manipulations. A Stark prosthetic, the two had enthusiastically told him, weighed little more than a real limb, operated near silently and, thanks to his close collaboration with Helen Cho, not only looked and felt like flesh, but could also grasp and operate with near human precision and delicacy. And the neural interface – Simmons had gushed about how quickly he would be able to adapt to using it, how his own brain would be fooled into thinking it real.

Bucky hadn't believed them, not fully. It sounded way too good to be true. But then Fitz had called Coulson into the room and asked him to _take off his left hand_. Before that moment, Bucky hadn't had any clue Coulson needed his own prosthetic. When he got the opportunity to hold it in his own hand, the fact that it was detached and he could see the leads coming out of the inside systems was really the only way Bucky could confirm it wasn't flesh.

Irrational as it seemed, Bucky had been scared in that moment. He had no memory of the injury that had cost him his arm. He assumed it had happened in the moments the _Howling Commando_ had been disintegrating around them; that he had gone into his escape pod with such a catastrophic damage that when the pod had put him into cryo-sleep once he'd passed the prescribed time limit for recovery, it had interfered with his NfiniT nanites' ability to repair the damage. That because his cryo-sleep had lasted twenty years, any possibility of subsequent regeneration had also passed.

Even those first weeks on Hydra Base were still hazy in his memory. Something he'd been grateful for, as the awakening he had had to the loss of his arm had been traumatic enough that he'd been only grateful for Hydra's offer of a replacement and rehabilitation and had no awareness that he'd basically signed the rights to his own life away. As crude as the replacement had been (not because there weren't better articulated limbs available but because he needed one that allowed him to recover and work as quickly as possible as he'd still believed then that he could work off his debt), it had allowed him to do the kind of jobs that would normally take an enhanced to do. It had been damn hard – the work and the recovery – but Bucky had recovered and had gained a certain kind of respect and reputation for his skill because of that stupid prosthetic. He'd hated it, hated Hydra with everything he was for the loss of his freedom and for being exploited, but he also had had a function and a certain value to the people he worked for, and thus was treated better than most of the other indentured workers who'd been tricked by Hydra's promises.

Losing even a terrible usefulness and faced with the need to start over again, only this time as a man out of time and with no special skills, as just one of the great multitude, had terrified Bucky. So had the concern that he'd just traded one master for another. The verdict of the trial against Hydra had helped reassure him. The money he'd been awarded had eliminated the worry that he'd end up beholden to anyone ever again in the same sense, but he still had no purpose. No prospect and no friends –

No friends but, damn, he just found someone he wouldn't mind meeting!

Someone other than the kids was helping Stark on the ship. A hatch near the raised command deck popped open and feet dropped down, then the rest of a very nicely built body, to hang there for a few seconds before it appeared that the man had realized he'd left something behind. He almost casually pulled himself to his waist, let go with one hand, and then lowered himself back down much slower this time, _still using just one hand,_ as the other now held a circuit board or some other component, to once more hang from the opening, with his feet at least ten feet above the deck. He must have called out to the boy who wasn't up with the girl and Stark, because that kid hurried over and did a little dance before catching the component by sweeping out the front of his shirt with both hands. The guy followed the component down after a couple of quick swings and once the kid moved out of the way with his bounty, landed lightly on his feet as if he was a gymnast.

After that display of strength and flexibility, Bucky wouldn't have cared what the guy looked like but he was shallow enough to be pleased and the man had an animated smile. It put an answering smile on the kid's face as he said something else, this time apparently to Stark or about Stark that made Stark's expression turn into a scowl. Bucky had to smile too.

Bucky could have done everything the other guy had managed with his old arm, maybe not quite as smoothly, so the display might not properly represent the guy's fitness. Both arms were beautifully sculpted with muscles and even a few scars (if Stark and Cho could do that with prosthetics, then maybe Bucky could commission something different himself than the ultra-real one Coulson had), and the rest of the body looked like the guy knew how to take care of himself just fine. Of course, none of it really mattered since it wasn't like Bucky had any likelihood of meeting those arms, just as he suspected he wasn't going to actually be meeting Stark or Cho either, just someone who worked for the renowned doctor.  According to the population data, Neo Wakanda housed nearly five hundred thousand people counting their steady transient population.

On the one hand, that realization was damn depressing. On the other, however, it appeared as if Bucky's libido had returned with his freedom. The hook-ups he'd made while living in Hydra space had been perfunctory or simply business transactions, since he'd had no interest in dragging someone else into his problems, and the few friends he'd made had been a hell of a lot more valuable to him than getting laid. Hydra High Command had been all about genetics and blood-lines anyway and only encouraged pairings that would produce superior off-spring. Homosexuality hadn't been outlawed, since muddying the blood-lines was an even bigger offense, but it was still something that was discriminated against and Bucky had already had enough keeping him trapped in his situation.

Before he should even thing about getting laid, Bucky had to get his shit together. There might be plenty of people who weren't fetishists who would still give him a look, but he wasn't about to bring someone back to the room he'd been promised in the clinic, nor was it a wise idea to follow someone he didn't actually know back to their place. Which meant he had to stop hiding down here and check in. (Easy enough since it looked like Stark and company were done for the day and heading out themselves.) If he got desperate, he could always hit up a pro. Prostitution was a legal Union profession, and no doubt Neo Wakanda was as rigorous as Hydra in enforcing the health and safety issues for either party involved.

***********

Bucky rode the tram that lifted him Top-side with his eyes closed and his head leaning back on the bulkhead behind him. He wasn't so out of it that he didn't know how many other people occupied the same car as he did. Or how closely any of them sat, not that anyone had approached him closer than three seats away. He hoped he simply looked tired, not menacing or overwhelmed.

He probably should have eaten at some point in the last ten hours, slept in the last twenty, and it was easier to attribute his moodiness to those flaws than any self-consciousness or his sense of being adrift. Even knowing he was not at the top of his game either physically or mentally, Bucky still didn’t expect anything to go wrong, and so he was woefully unprepared when it did. His link beeped its warning that his stop was next. He'd memorized the route, fixed on the names of the streets, and had ignored everything else, even Klaue's warning. Exiting the tram into the station went smoothly, not that anyone else got off with him to mess him up or observe him messing up to make matters worse, so he thought nothing of walking out onto the promenade and out into a city he could never have envisioned.

When Bucky had left Earth at the age of twenty, the base on Titan now known as New Valhalla was only being planned, and the believers in the Hydra philosophy of _strength through chaos_ were simply the hidden specter behind much of the discontent and riots out in the Belt that had erupted into his war. Earth was still alone in the universe; first contact with the Asgard was still eleven years away. Most of those he'd shipped out with, as well as the soldiers they joined who'd already been fighting the war for two years, were convinced that humanity was doomed. A fear that had been all the more painful and ironic, as so many of the earlier deprivations and strife that kept humanity's tribes on the knife's edge of war since the beginning of their species, had finally been laid aside. Earth itself had been well on its way to recovering from countless years of exploitation and humanity's other interferences; humans had successfully tamed most illnesses through medical and genetic breakthroughs, and the stars themselves were within their reach. But those who had chosen to embrace the Black had done so with the understanding that they would always be tied to their mother planet, as all of the terraforming projects were still hundreds of years from seeing fruition, and self-sustaining cities were a myth, even on Earth itself.

Living on Hydra's colony on Callisto in its orbit around Jupiter and working in the Belt, Bucky had known nothing different, since if it hadn't been invented – or stolen – by Hydra, it didn't exist as far as the indentured were informed. His time on SHIELD had filled Bucky in on many of the changes and advances, but SHIELD was still an industrialized and institutionalized space station, not a colony despite how many people called it home. Neo Wakanda – at least Top Side – truly had to be Wakanda reborn and, in that, a perfect, utopian version of the city that had once existed on Earth.

Had Bucky been reborn here on Neo Wakanda, in his first discovery of the world outside his hospital bed, he would have sworn he was planet-side – _Earth-_ side, but a perfect version of Earth. Mountains rose up to clash with a sky of twilight splendor. Skyscrapers created a varied and wondrous skyline, strategically designed and placed to complement each other, each of them a spill of glass, metal, and green. So much living green.

It had been sixty-four years since Bucky had set foot on a world with a sky and with plants and a landscape that were an integral and organic part of the environment instead of hydroponics, air filters, or simply images of a world left far behind. Sixty-four years since he'd heard birdsong or smelled the scent of real flowers, since he could taste the ozone and moisture of an incoming storm, or since he'd felt the tips of grass against his palm and sunk his fingers into dirt.

He'd been overwhelmed before, but this was just too much. He simply shut down.

********

As his brain came back on line, Bucky realized he was crying. And sitting on his ass, with something warm, soft, and fuzzy draped across his lap. His right hand was rhythmically stroking through the fur, the back and forth of it in synch with the inhale and exhale, the expansion and contraction of the ribs beneath his fingers. He worked to slow his heart rate to the quiet thump-thump of what had to be a decent-sized dog's tail against the ground, then slowly took in a breath and held it for a four-count before releasing it.

That exhale seemed to release the dog also, as suddenly instead of his lap, he had a good twenty pounds of dog pressing against his upper body. And a tongue swiping at the tear tracks before it was all suddenly pulled away, accompanied by a groaned," Ah, Lucky, no."

Because he was already working at it, Bucky was able to keep his heart rate from exploding again at the thought of being so unaware that someone had come up so close to him. It was also too late to be embarrassed over his state. In truth, he could only imagine how much worse he would _still_ be if not for the presence of the dog, which deserved some kind of acknowledgement and gratitude.

"So, its name is Lucky?" he asked as he slowly opened his eyes and let his gaze drift to take in his surroundings and his saviors. The dog looked to be a Lab or retriever mutt, golden in color, and a bit worse for the wear itself, as it had lost an eye and had some additional scarring across its muzzle. Bucky was so busy marveling at there being a dog here on Neo Wakanda that it took him an embarrassingly long time to raise his gaze to the man who was holding back the friendly ball of enthusiasm. He found himself now just a couple of feet away from the guy from Stark's ship that he'd been half-way lusting after from the hanger deck. Who was indeed everything Bucky had wanted: hot, fit, maybe a little older than he'd originally estimated given the lines in his face brought out by his smile – or maybe he just smiled and laughed a lot.

"Yeah, and sorry," hot guy answered, a flush of embarrassment only enhancing his infectious smile and kind eyes. "He really is a good service dog, but it's been awhile since I've had my own episode, so he's only needed to be a dog-dog for months. He might suffer from doggy-breath, but he gets regular check-ups as part of the conditions in being allowed on the station and – "

"It's fine," Bucky said quickly. "Just unexpected. It's been too many years since I've even seen, much less interacted with one. Can I – " Instead of saying something else, Bucky held his hand out toward the dog's nose. Hot guy nodded and let go. Bucky expected to be bowled over again but, proving he really had been trained, Lucky just closed the distance between nose and fingers, then gave a gentle swipe of Bucky's fingers with his tongue before wriggling and wagging his way close enough that Bucky could again offer pets and scritches.

"So they allow pets here?"

"Technically not pets," hot guy clarified, leaning back on his hands now that he didn't need to contain Lucky.

He made it look natural, comfortable, but Bucky wasn't fooled into believing hot guy hadn't noticed his unease in having someone sitting quite so close, even with the dog between them. Of course, between that gesture and hot guy admitting to needing Lucky in his official capacity, Bucky's distress was lessening.

"All animals have to be working ones," hot guy continued, his smile turning gently sardonic. "But, somehow, it was missed that not all of the cats brought in for rat control were sterilized. The government's been pretty liberal in their interpretation of service animals as long as the petitioners can show they've been tamed and trained so as not to pose a threat to the public." He shrugged and made a sweeping gesture to encompass their surroundings. "When you bring in birds and insects and other critters to add to your parks' authenticity, it seems a shame not to allow some of the other niches to be filled. No wild predator species, of course, at least not so far. And it's all still very much in the experimental stage, subject to being changed or cancelled at any time, so who knows what the future will hold."

Bucky couldn't help shaking his head, overawed again, but not so badly as to shut down once more. "I never imagined a place like this could exist out in the Black."

"Tell me about it," was hot guy's surprising answer. "You're from Hydra, right? I was born in the Belt, on one of those shitty little asteroids that our granddad's father claimed as a homestead back during the rush. The Barton clan fought to the death to keep it during the war, despite it never producing enough for anyone to even want it. Da certainly didn't, but he also wasn't about to accept any help – not to work it and maybe make it viable; not to move his family somewhere where we had a chance to live and not just survive. If I hadn't had all the wonder and hope beat out of me long before, my first step here, I would have thought I'd died and somehow ended up in the paradise my mom always swore would be our reward for putting up with all of Da's crap."

He'd flushed again, no doubt embarrassed to have spilled so much detail to a complete stranger, but hot guy didn't apologize for it, or for his roots either, despite him coming from a life that was considered even worse than being Hydran in the eyes of most of the other colonies that made up the Union.

"James Barnes," Bucky offered, wiping his hand off on his jeans first before offering it, though he supposed that looked pretty dumb given that Lucky belonged to hot guy. "My friends call me Bucky." Saying just that much made Bucky flush; he'd not said that to anyone for more than fifty- years, though he might have thought about doing so with Coulson and his people.

"Clint Barton," he got in return.

"Most of what my friends call me isn't appropriate in polite company," Barton offered with the return of his engaging smile. "But I've also been known to answer to Hawkeye, or just Hawk. I spent some time in the Pause as a pilot in the SMFA-314th."

"The Black Knights," Bucky said appreciatively. The 314nd was a close air support, interdiction, and reconnaissance attack squadron; in his time, the Black Knights had often been the ones who'd gone in first to find the jobs for the _Commando_ to do. "I served with the 107 th." He had first, but once Steve got his command, Bucky had been tapped to be that stealth squad's sergeant.

"Hoo-Yah. Officer?"

"Hell, no! I worked for a living," Bucky responded with the hoary, but still true cliché. Oh, but … "Shit, sorry. Pilots don't – aren't – My best friend was an officer!"

"No, hey, I know," Barton said, laughing Bucky's foot-in-mouth moment off. "I went mustang, and the only reason I took the OCS route was to get into the cockpit." His next laughs seemed more to be at himself.

"Hell, the only reason I became a Marine was my previous … crew fell apart and I didn't want to go back to the Belt or get stuck dirtside," he spoke frankly. "I got extremely lucky and had a friend in a position to help and give a recommendation that somehow got my previous piloting experience to count. It also helped that I was willing to participate in the snipe hunt."

That was a reference that would have gone over Bucky's head three months ago, considering that when he'd been lost, humanity was the only existing intelligent species. Finding out that aliens did exist had rocked him almost more than his freedom had. Hydra had kept such knowledge from him, even when they had taken part in the war against the Kree. After SHIELD gave him open access to the matrix so he could find out what had happened to the rest of the Commandos, the first parts of history he'd sought out had been about the Asgard, the first aliens to make contact with humanity, and then about the Kree: the first aliens to go to war against humanity.

Even now, the Union kept a forward base on one of Neptune's moons, and had squadrons, including the 314th, flying patterns in the Heliopause, that last barrier between the Solar System and interstellar space. Yes, lots of people complained about the costs and called it a snipe hunt since there hadn't been any reported incursions by the Kree or any other alien race, but Bucky suspected Barton wasn't as dismissive of the duty as he sounded. He knew the crews tasked with maintaining the warning and comm satellites appreciated the cover.

"And now you work for Stark."

Barton raised an eyebrow. "Technically, I work with him, but how did you know?

He didn't look particularly suspicious, but Bucky still felt his face flame. He thought about ducking his face down and turn his attention on to petting Lucky, but then figured what the hell. Luck had been with him so far, and the answer would automatically be no if he didn't take the chance.

"I was hiding out on the observation deck, putting off checking into the clinic I'm supposed to be visiting about getting a new arm," he confessed. "His ship caught my eye." After a calculated beat, he added, "First."

That brought Barton's smile back in full force. He opened his mouth to say something, but then stayed silent and shifted his head to look up before moving his gaze to his arm. "Shit," was what finally came out. "It's not going to get cold, but we're in for a twenty minute rainstorm. These drops are our two minute warning. Where do you need to go?" he asked as he rolled effortlessly to his feet, then extended his arm down to Bucky to help him get to his feet. Lucky got to his own without a whine, shaking his coat of the accumulated dirt and, no doubt, the bliss, since Bucky had been petting him for more than thirty minutes. He looked eager to run, but was disciplined enough to stay and wait until Barton moved or gestured or did something.

Not so much a rube that he questioned someone 'scheduling' a rainstorm, because how else would it get done in a space station?, Bucky just grabbed his link out from a jacket pocket and double checked his notes. He memorized how to get the building, but had no idea if just mentioning Cho's name would mean anything to Barton, or if even the clinic's address would. "It's, a … it's in the building called the Virginia," he read from the details. "That's on  – "

Barton burst out laughing. "I live in the same building. It was originally called Stark Tower. He renamed it a few months ago, when he was still trying to win back his fiancé," he clarified as he started jogging toward the massive structure that was probably at least fifteen stories higher than the buildings around it.

Lucky took off like a shot, but only raced thirty yards ahead of them before racing back, running around the two of them, then dashing forward again.

"Her name is Virginia Potts – " Barton explained further while keeping a close eye on the dog, and giving Bucky a glimpse of something colored purple behind his ear that Bucky didn't think was just dyed hair. Before he could ask, Barton spoke again.

" — She prefers to go by Pepper, so it didn't quite go over like Tony hoped. So you're seeing Helen Cho for your arm?" he asked, abruptly returning the conversation to their original subject, with another glance up at the sky.

This time Bucky got a good enough look at the side of Barton's head to see the purple color belonged to a comm device. "Someone with her clinic, at least," he answered with a nod. "A … friend made the recommendation."

"To you or _for_ you?" Barton asked but then shook his head before Bucky could answer.

"It will be Helen, and she's the best in the business," he said reassuringly. "Even before Stark butted his nose into her business, the bio advances she came up with were years ahead of what everyone else was doing. You probably owe your friend a fruit basket."

"I think he'd rather get a cheap piece of Earth kitsch," Bucky said, remembering the collection of dolls and toys that had adorned Coulson's office.

"I've got a friend just like – " the rest of what Barton was saying got drowned out by a great crack of thunder that presaged the occasional drop of water becoming a steady downpour.

Bucky found himself stopping, caught up in the novelty of the rain and memories from his childhood. Both Barton and Lucky had also stopped and were watching. "It's just … it's rain!" he told them, feeling giddy – feeling _happy_ – for the first time in too many years to note.

He pulled off his cap and tipped up his head with no trace of self-consciousness. Hell, he'd already had a panic attack in front of this man, and had admitted to watching Barton, not to mention that he'd already given away how long it had been since he'd been planet-side. It wasn't as if he could embarrass himself any further.

"It's glorious," Bucky breathed out.

"Yeah, maybe," Barton agreed with a grin. "But wet dog really isn't."

Bucky grinned back. "Too late to keep that from happening." He pointed past Barton. Lucky apparently decided rain was glorious too. Or, more likely, the mud puddle the rain was forming here near the end of the park. Not content to just splash in the puddle, Lucky dropped and began to roll in the mud.

"Ah, shit," Barton groaned. "Laura is going to kill me! Maybe I can bribe the kids to give him a bath."

Bucky couldn't help it, his smile faltered. There it was. Now he was back living in his own life. Of course, the hot guy he never should have run into and found a connection with but did, was married and had kids.

He shoved his cap back on and took a couple of steps forward. "We should get going before he makes it worse," he suggested over his shoulder, now wanting nothing more than to put an end to this day.

"We'll catch up," Barton said with a nod, his smile still evident and open as he moved after Bucky, so maybe Bucky wasn't being a complete dick in his disappointment.

Barton snapped his fingers then made some sort of gesture when he had Lucky's attention. It had the dog up in an instant and shaking himself where he stood instead of coming toward them and splattering them with the mud and water that sailed from his coat. When he did lope over after them, he trotted to Bucky's side, not Barton's and started to lean into Bucky's right leg, not directly stopping Bucky from leaving but certainly slowing him down and making him feel awkward.

Barton grabbed at Lucky's collar. "Sorry," he started; only to have Lucky first growl and then whine when Barton pulled him back. "Lucky!" he admonished sharply, turning a look on the dog that turned worried when he aimed it Bucky's direction.

"Ah, look. This is going to sound weird, but I'd feel a lot better if you came home with me," he said slowly, his cheeks pinked but his expression stricken, not embarrassed. "Your link will grant you the access you need, and Cho's accommodations are great. So are the cafes and restaurants in the building. But being alone in a new environment can really suck, even in a place like this."

He seemed genuinely concerned, as well as sounding like he was speaking from experience. Although it was the last thing he wanted to do, that combination stopped Bucky again. Any people he might have considered friends when he'd lived on Hydra Station were lost to him now; he didn't expect he could even correspond with them and he would never be going back to meet up with them. Maybe if they left Hydra space themselves, but most of them hadn't had much more freedom than Bucky had – certainly didn't have much more money – and how would they ever even know where Bucky had gone? Hydra Command wasn't about to admit they'd been holding Bucky in illegal indenture. He might consider himself a loner, especially now, but that didn't mean he liked always being alone. He could use a friend, even if Barton was off-limits otherwise.

Barton took it as encouragement to keep talking, more like babbling, as what was said now just didn't made sense. "My cohort takes turns in having responsibility over dinner. Tonight that means it's Laura and Wanda's turn, so it will one, be palatable, and two, there will be plenty available for guests."

Now Barton paused, no doubt for a response, but Bucky was still at a loss.

"I – I don't – "

"If you're worried that something might happen, the kids are old enough to understand when to back off," Barton interrupted to offer reassurances. "When to run away, too. Tasha can stop any of us if it becomes necessary and, anyway, the rest of us can dogpile, plus Lucky's really good at giving a warning if one of us no longer thinks they're safe and acts out." He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, but didn't apologize for either his assumption that Bucky might be a danger, or for admitting that he could be himself.

"If you're worried about the kids themselves, they take after their mother, not their late father. So even if they don't decide the adults are being boring tonight and disappear into their rooms, they're not rambunctious or even all that noisy."

"Late father?" Bucky repeated, hope rising even if he tried not to let it. Even though he _knew_ he was putting too much importance on his desire, when the other was offering him a lifeline of friendship, not a future.

Barton laughed, no so much in humor but with something that looked like fondness and confusion. "For some reason, Laura fell for my brother," he explained. "Barney didn't deserve her. Hell, I don't either, not now and, especially, not after Sokovia. But there she was, not even two years after losing her husband, offering her home up to me, to Wanda, and even to Tasha. Sure, getting a couple of live-in babysitters for two young kids was a nice benefit but, Christ, I wasn't willing to take care of myself right then, much less some rugrats. Wanda did better, but she'd just lost her twin. -- I mean, who would invite that kind of trouble into their lives?" he asked, his tone and expression showing bewilderment even though this had to have happened a while back.

He also didn't seem to see the irony.

"I guess the friend of someone who does the same because his dog approves of a stranger?" Bucky offered, though it was more that Lucky had felt sorry for him.

For a moment, confusion stayed on Barton's face then the smile returned as he began laughing at himself. "I'm going to take that as a yes. Get yourself checked in, then get your ass upstairs. We're on the fifty-seventh floor. Let me see your link for a moment."

Bucky handed it over and watched Barton start programming something in. He'd really need to spend some time going over the link's workings, as it seemed everyone else knew how to use his so much better than he did himself.

"Hey, this is SHIELD issue," Barton remarked. "When were you – "

"I was a project," Bucky said, cutting him off before Barton asked something that Bucky would have to out-and-out lie about.

"Be careful with them," Barton warned. "Some of the agents have a habit of recruiting from their projects, relying on your gratitude or your guilt. And then there are others there that do the same simply by being decent, caring people. Let me know if you need the scorecard to tell them apart." He handed the link back and before Bucky could respond, said: "Just let Jarvis scan this and you can come right up. You don't even have to knock once you get there. It's not like anyone else ever does."

Instead of sounding resentful or resigned, Barton seemed pleased that his friends felt so welcomed. Bucky still wasn't sure it was a good idea, but he also didn't want to be the one who rejected such an offer.

"I'll see you later, then, Barton."

"Clint."

"Clint. Ok."

**********

"Okay, everyone, this is James. He's new to Wakanda, going to be working with Helen and Tony on a new arm, and Lucky thinks the world of him. I'm on the fence myself – "

"Clint!"

"Yeah, no, Laura. You've already proven your instincts don't count by marrying Barney and then willingly inviting Clint into your home – "

"Natasha!"

"Aaaand, James likes Lucky in return, so he must be pretty cool. Even if he turns out to be as boring as Sam – "

"Hey!"

" – he's probably a good guy that can use some friends while he's here, so let's all make him feel welcome. Okay?"

"No."

"Aw, Lila."

*********

"You're sure you're ready for me to do this?"

Helen Cho grinned. "It sounds like I should be asking you that, mister, not the other way around. Yes, James, I'm fine with you going out to play in zero-g. All of your biofeedback markers are green, as was your last round of tests. I am quite pleased with how your rehab has progressed, even if I can't be impressed at how quickly you built back your muscle mass," she said sternly, but her eyes were dancing.

Bucky ducked his head. He'd already apologized for withholding pertinent health information, not that he'd realized certain details had been missing from the medical workup Simmons had performed for SHIELD. Three unsuccessful attempts to implant a much more advanced and less invasive neural interface for the prosthetic Stark was making, however, told Cho that something was going on, as Bucky's body wasn't just rejecting the interface, but was actively destroying the mechanical components as well as the organics despite there being nothing in the human body that could do that. Nothing he'd been born with at least.

"You're lucky I like you," she further teased. "Otherwise I'd be writing up your case and having people clamoring for some of your blood so they could see if they could figure out the allergen breakthrough. Or change it just enough that ninety percent of the population wasn't allergic. Even more than the genetic enhancements, people are still looking for the fountain of youth. Meeting the Asgard and the Kree have only made it worse, as now more humans feel cheated."

"You're the lucky one," Bucky teased back. "It'd be hard to meet those requests from a jail cell."

Cho's smile didn't disappear completely, but her expression became more thoughtful, and a bit more guarded. "I still think that the Union made a mistake when they banned NfiniT and censored all information about its existence. We both know nothing can be completely eradicated, so they've just driven the research underground and into the hands of people that aren't working in humanity's best interest, only their own."

In the end, she'd decided Simmons had simply been too young to know what she'd found in Bucky's blood. For herself, looking to find out why Hydra's primitive neural interface had worked, she'd asked to see the specs that Fitz had put together on the Hydra arm, which had brought Stark down along with them.

Bucky still wasn't sure if his reason had been mostly ego, or because Stark truly wanted to help, but it _had_ taken the both of them to pinpoint the cause and extent of the mods Bucky had undertaken when he'd joined Earth's military forces. Of course, had either of them bothered to let Bucky know they'd found some anomalies he could have cleared things up much quicker. Or if Fury had bothered to tell Bucky that NfiniT and all non-necessary body modifications had been stopped just a few years after he'd gone into cryo. Instead, he'd just told Bucky through Coulson to not to tell anyone his true age or about the cryo, and to simply say he'd worked in Hydra space the last few years, not that he'd been imprisoned there for as long as he had.

Well, those secrets were out of the bag, and all Bucky could do was trust that neither Cho nor Stark would go public. As for Fury, the man had to know that the possibility of the two finding out existed; they were both geniuses and at the top of their chosen fields. If Fury had truly wanted Bucky's past to stay secret, he should have sent Bucky somewhere other than into Cho and Stark's hands.

Cho took Bucky's hands into her own. "I promise you, James, I don't even have a slide of your blood now that we're done with all but the last of your rehab. Tony has made sure that all of your records have been altered so that there is not even a hint of anything abnormal. _Do no harm_ is still my credo."

He nodded. "I appreciate it," he thanked her.

Cho had been amazing throughout his time in her clinic; friendly, patient, understanding. Hell, her clinic had been amazing too, a reflection of her philosophy and kindness. The room that had been reserved for his use was actually a full, one-bedroom apartment with a kitchen, along with a number of features and accoutrements that even now he hadn't completely identified. Not only was it bigger than any accommodation he'd been allowed to live in on Hydra, it was also technologically, environmentally, and architecturally more advanced than anything he'd even seen on Hydra, including the quarters that people like Pierce, Von Strucker, and Malick lived in.

"Good. Now get the hell out of here. Tony is just dying for you to show off our good work."

Bucky nodded again and gave her a quick salute before doing as she commanded. He was excited himself about showing Clint and the others what Stark had done. The arm he'd been wearing for the last few weeks had been a temporary one, while Stark put the finishing touches on this real one. He hadn't even told Clint he'd talked Stark into doing something new; up until Stark had delivered it this morning, Bucky hadn't believed it could actually be done.

Missing the kind of utility his Hydra arm had offered despite its bulk and appearance, Bucky had asked for something similar to what he'd had instead of a realistic looking arm like Coulson had for his hand. Stark had first said no, refusing to make something so crude, but when Bucky persisted, Stark's wounded distaste turned into interest and then eagerness. In the end, Bucky suspected Stark had surpassed even his own expectations. The arm was a work of art as well as one of engineering: a sleek metal construct of over-lapping vibranium plates wrapped around an articulated carbon-fiber framework, right down to the smallest finger. It felt and reacted like his natural arm but was stronger, sturdier and, thanks to the vibranium, gave him something that could stop shrapnel and general purpose lasers if he used it like a shield.

Clint had just known Bucky was getting his final prosthetic today, and had gotten the okay to invite Bucky to join the crew of the _Avenger_ during their scheduled time in one of the zero-g tanks down the spindle. He had about twenty minutes to change and get down below not only Down-Side but also the Concourse and Space Dock and into the Maintenance and Power Sector.

Bucky loved working in zero-g. That had been the one thing Hydra hadn't taken from him, recognizing his skill and that it was better to send someone out into the Black that wasn’t afraid of being there. Bucky had never had a problem with how overwhelming the Black could be. Nor had he been particularly fearful of becoming untethered and lost, of his suit losing its integrity, or of getting run through by a micro-meteor. During the War, he'd decided that dying as he floated amongst the stars would be a pretty great way to go. That hadn't changed while he worked for Hydra, but he'd been raised never to give up – and had had Steve Rogers as a best friend – so he'd never just let go and let it happen.

It had been almost a year since he'd been out in the Black. Zero-g in a chamber had nothing on an actual spacewalk, but it was a good first step to recovering his life.

Stripping to pull on a set of workout shorts and a tank top, Bucky stopped for a moment in front of the mirrored tiles in his bathroom. His new Stark arm really was a thing of beauty. He watched the plates open and resettle as he thought about its diagnostics and then looked down at his link to see all optimal readouts showing. Overall, he'd been having no trouble making the larger movements with his temporary arm, so most of his practicing had been the delicate or intricate motions of his fingers. To that end, Cho had been teaching him sign language. It was working out well for his needs; he'd spend more time trying to remember the proper motions and positions than he did dwelling on the novelty of having new fingers.

Signing also provided a connection with Clint. Clint had lost his hearing a couple of years back and not even Cho's advancements or Stark's tech could restore it. They hadn't given up, of course, but even if Bucky's augmentations were legal for this generation, apparently Clint was one of those who would suffer a potentially fatal allergic reaction to them. His hearing aids enabled him to hear well – and Stark had designed them so they meshed to the _Avenger_ 's comms – but most of the crew had also taken the time to learn how to sign, and now Bucky had too.

As far as Bucky was concerned, today wasn't just a test of his arm, but his chance to show that he could work with the crew as well as he got along with them in casual situations. Stark had provisionally offered him a position as an EVA retrieval specialist, but only while Rhodes was laid up with a spinal injury. Bucky wanted to prove he was a good fit even for something long term, despite being concerned about accepting something permanent.

If he took the job, how would it play out if he and Clint ended their burgeoning romance? Could he work with someone he once cared about? As _Avenger_ 's primary pilot, Clint interfaced with everyone on the crew.

Of course, if their relationship flourished, would that create a different set of problems? Was it just asking for trouble, living _and_ working together? Clint's cohort was made up of people he worked with, all of them sharing the duties and responsibilities of living in the Virginia as an extended family. They certainly seemed the better for it. But out of all of them, even if he included Stark's cohort, only Natasha and Sam were working _and_ sleeping together, and one instance wasn't enough of a sample. Especially when one of them involved in that kind of relationship was Natasha Romanoff.

Bucky knew how to be a buddy – a brother – but it wasn't like he'd _ever_ been in a romantic relationship or sexual one that was anything more than a mutual easing of needs and loneliness. This one with Clint certainly was more than that – to him at least. To Clint, too, he was pretty sure, but maybe not _move in together_ more.

It was a novel thing to have to stress about, as was the thought of finding a place to live instead of being told. That was something else new: he'd left his family to go straight into the military. Just the opportunity to explore was new; even the seedier, cramped environs of Down-Side had been interesting. So much so that he'd ended up renting one of the Down-Side tenements that he felt could be safely secured. He liked the idea of having a bolt hole and now he had the money to indulge himself, but he wasn't planning to make his home there.

Bucky used his thumb to activate the biometric lock and set out at a jog for the nearest tram station that would take him Down-Side. He was meeting Clint in _Avenger_ 's hanger before they'd head even lower. While Bucky, even as a transient visitor, had access to any public location on Neo Wakanda, he needed someone with full citizen rights to accompany him if he wanted access to other sectors. Not even Clint had unlimited access to where they were heading, but then that was why the crew had scheduled their time in advance.

Six, almost seven, weeks had passed since Bucky had come to Neo Wakanda, and he still had difficulty believing the space colony was real. Bucky was used to severe rationing. In Neo Wakanda, most provisions, utilities, and general goods, while not unlimited, were provided. He didn't have to reuse his own gray water. Or keep a compost pile. All he had to do was use the various features in his apartment as intended, and make sure to toss his discards into the right chutes.

On SHIELD, he'd learned the Colony was considered self-sustaining; that most of the cargo imports were actually trade goods or special orders. He hadn't realized that most of the skyscrapers like the Virginia were self-contained and self-sustaining as well. Arc reactors provided localized energy, along with flooring made out of piezoelectric tiles. Each high-rise also contained multiple levels of vertical and hydroponic farms, fish hatcheries, and tightly managed animal populations that kept the residents and guests fed with more than just synth pastes or reconstituted powders of the necessary proteins, vitamins, and minerals. In a catastrophic breach, buildings like the Virginia could even become hermetically sealed with its own atmospheres, including small nature preserve quadrants on every other floor, and waterfalls and fountains on many of the balconies overlooking all three open-area internal atriums.

Adding in the retail shops and a wide variety of services being offered by local residents, the only reason anyone would _need_ to leave their building was if they were leaving, period, or for a view of the Black. Or maybe that was just Bucky, as the bedroom walls were screens that could be programmed to display any imagery as 'wall paper', including a real time feed of the star field the colony made its stately rotations in, in its constant opposition of Mars. Bucky used it, not always, but certainly every few days. He still wanted more than just an image.

Using his link to gain access to the proper hanger bay, Bucky couldn't help the bounce in his step. He was moving one step closer to getting back to something he enjoyed and about to show off his new arm, doing both by showing off in front of Clint and his friends.

************

"Fuck, Bucky! That's what Stark's been doing? He's … It's …"

"Too much? Too ugly? Garish; shiny?"

"Shiny, maybe, but no, not too shiny. It's really kinda beautiful. The Asgard have some tech that flexes and bends like that, some shit they brought out in the War, but this definitely has the Stark aesthetic and, as much as Tony can be an ass, he's got an artist's eye. It's very you, though I couldn't tell you why. The one he gave you for pre-surgery was fine, but now … Is it as strong as it looks? Can you … ?  Would you mind … ? Uh, yeah, okay. Maybe we'd better … we should definitely stop, or we're going to be late. But when we're done, we're revisiting that. And seeing just how articulate those fingers are in delicate situations."

********

"On your left," Sam warned Bucky.

Bucky looked anyway; it was pretty impossible not to let his attention get drawn to the wings on Sam's back as Sam glided by just inches to Bucky's left. It hadn't taken him long to get back into the groove of maneuvering in zero-g and to remember that _any_ move he made would affect his momentum and trajectory, so he still reached the ring he'd been aiming toward. He swung once, then let his body fall into a backward flip so he could drop down to the block protruding from the wall below him and land in an easy crouch.

It helped that their training dome was tricked out with all sorts of stanchions, poles, and solid objects like the cube he was crouched on, all padded, as were the walls and the overalls that they'd put on before entering the chamber. Paint schemes helped establish orientation, with one ninety-degree arc of the dome painted candy apple red, the other gold, and the flat wall keeping it from being a full sphere black. The random solids were also red, while the poles, rings, hooks, and bars were gold. Bucky kept trying to find a pattern in the placements, but decided there wasn't one. This did give it an element of being more like moving inside the asteroid field, albeit a fairly dense section where several of the asteroids had been broken up by mining with detritus still orbiting the left behind chunks. Clint had mentioned the entire sphere had a diameter of a quarter mile, so there was plenty of room to maneuver, and plenty of things to use to aid or stop momentum or trajectory.

Bucky killed his momentum so he could take a moment to catch his breath. He'd been working hard to regain his strength and stamina along with his muscle tone prior to his surgery, and had done well by all accounts. Even getting to the point where he could handle his former military work-out, however, had only gotten him back to where he didn't feel he'd completely embarrass himself compared to the _Avenger_ 's crew. He'd known Clint was built, and the others fit, just from observation, but he felt like they all were champions and he a raw recruit or even worse, another Steve from before he'd volunteered for his bio-augmentation.

His new arm made up for some of his failings, thankfully, allowing him some strength moves only Thor came close to matching. And, after fifteen minutes of warm-ups, his body was loose, his muscle memory had returned, and while he might be breathing a bit harder than some of the others, he wasn't nearly as winded as he feared he might be. Especially since some of his breathlessness came from laughing too much; he wasn't sure if he'd ever had this much fun, even with the crew of the _Commando_.

In fact, the only thing Bucky thought might really be a problem was how much he wanted to grab hold of Clint and kiss him senseless. And maybe indulge in a little zero-g sex. Sure, it was a lot of work and sometimes the payoff wasn't worth the effort, but Clint was doing some of the same moves as Sam without any wings to aid in flexibility, so Bucky doubted there would be any disappointment.

"All right, kids, it's time," Stark's voice came ominously over the comm. "Take your positions – ."

Bucky looked immediately to Clint, who pushed off the nearest pole so he floated to a narrow rung positioned halfway down the black axis, right were the red and black divided. The others, too, moved like they'd been expecting this, with Thor taking up a position against the dome's zenith at the red and gold divide, Wanda and Sam dropping downward from Bucky's more or less center point at the black wall, and Natasha floating up to Clint's foot where she used him to stop herself so she could float. Clint met Bucky's questioning look with a grin as he quickly signed and fingered-spelled _trust me fun_ with his free hand.

As he'd already been having fun, it wouldn't normally even be a question, but this was Stark in charge now. So far, Bucky and Stark disagreed regularly about what constituted fun, as well as a variety of other things.

" – since we have two guest players today, I'll go over the rules of Calvinball – "

"There are no rules in Calvinball," Thor, Wanda and Sam yelled out, and even Bucky knew that.

Of course, he had no idea how someone might play some version of Calvinball in a zero-g dome, and wasn't even sure he wanted to try and imagine it.

" – One, to score, your ball must bounce off something – anything – before going into the cup."

Bucky gestured to himself and signed _where me_ and got a signed _stay_ in return. From Natasha.

"Two, if you bounce off of the opposing team's ball to score, it's worth five points," Stark continued on. "And, three, Barton and Danvers' scores have to ricochet at least three times to count."

"Fuck you, Stark," Clint responded.

His expression remained happy and excited, however, so maybe that was pro forma too. Bucky was curious about Clint having a handicap —wait! Danvers? Bucky knew a Danvers, the captain of the _Mar-vell_. Only she wasn't one of the dome's inhabitants, and he was pretty sure he'd gotten everyone's last name when he'd met _Avenger_ 's crew.

He figured it out before the black wall right next to him started irising away. Sure enough, a new dome grew visible – this one painted half in a more scarlet shade of red and a bright blue – as did Carol Danvers, Jess, Jessica Jones, Cage, Rand, and one more that Bucky hadn't met. From the amount of swearing Natasha let loose, in Old Russian of all things, Bucky had a feeling the _Mar-vell_ crew had brought in a ringer to counter Bucky's addition to the mix-up.

"T'Challa, Stark?" Sam did his own yelling. "Really?"

"Really." Stark replied. "Time for war."

Bucky had little time to place T'Challa as the current governor or whatever Neo Wakanda called the guy elected to make the toughest decisions. Even as the word war echoed in the sphere, two – no three – hand-sized balls came jetting out of different points within each dome. They were colored blue and gold, as were their entry points, which didn't close behind them. Bucky guessed those were the cups that the balls had to be ricocheted into. What he didn't know was which ball his team was supposed to grab, or whether all of them were up for grabs, nor which cup they needed to be launched into. He immediately looked toward Clint again, but Clint was pitching Natasha away from him like a rocket, while Natasha tumbled like a champion-class gymnast before clamping on to Danvers' shoulders. It looked as if she'd caught one of the balls on her way across the sphere as something was arcing away from her, bouncing off of Cage and into one of the entry points, but any chance Bucky had to catch the color got eliminated when T'Challa did his own spring onto Bucky's cube and pitched him off.

Okay. So it was that kind of Calvinball.

Bucky dragged his vibranium fingers down the side of the cube to slow down and keep control of his movement and momentum. He tucked his feet up and pushed them off the underside into a backward swan dive. Already knowing from warm-ups that the mass of the solid objects was enough that he'd be the only thing moving; that all he needed to do as he arced backward was plant his feet against the prism his movement headed him toward. He then spun ninety-degrees so he was facing his original cube and T'Challa, returning back to where he started. He intended to sweep T'Challa's feet out from under him, maybe set him spinning, with either his own foot or an arm.

A new ball spit out of the wall, bounding between them.

T'Challa made an impressive leap and tucked into a roll after catching it. He missed Danvers outstretched hand as she swooped past, however. (Danvers' coveralls had vanes made from some sort of material along the arms and sides that let her glide quickly, stop, or adjust her trajectory, much like Sam's mechanical wings allowed.) It was obvious that T'Challa didn't normally do this with the crew of the _Mar-vell_ , as even on her bank around, they missed each other again. Pulling his body out of the tucked position, T-Challa slowed and then stopped his rotation, but his upward momentum wasn't going to end until he made contact with something or someone, and he had no clear shot that Bucky could see to score.

Bucky, on the other hand, was close enough to that damn cube to scrap across it again and slingshot around to see if he could waylay either Cage or Rand, who'd teamed up to keep Wanda from making a shot with the ball she intercepted from Jess.

"Hey guys," he called out on his approached. "Don't you know it's not polite to gang up on a woman?"

Rules or no rules, he wasn't about to body slam someone in the back when they had no idea he was coming.

Rand turned, using Cage's greater mass to propel himself behind his partner that he might face Bucky's arrival; staying there so their combined mass could stop Bucky cold. Being from Earth, though, Bucky was heavier than he looked. Maybe not Cage's mass but he figured he outweighed Rand by at least ten pounds, and in zero-g that meant he could pull Rand when he grabbed onto Bucky's prosthetic and fling him sideways. Bucky got his own surprise when Rand managed to keep his grip and pull Bucky along, but Thor had just propelled himself toward Wanda and snagged her gently around the waist before pushing her downward away from Cage and anyone else.

And so it continued. Bucky managed to score once, but found he was better at disrupting Team Mar-vell's shots, and positioning himself where his own teammates could use his body to push off in a new direction, or use his strength to get them moving across the huge expanse. Clint and Natasha were frighteningly good in anticipating each other's movements, but Sam was the one making most of the points on Team Avenger's side, which made sense as he had the most experience between them as a Zero-G Retrieval Specialist.

As for _Mar-vell_ 's crew, from what he could tell, Danvers and Jess were the top scorers, while the others played the disruption game. T'Challa seemed to make it his duty to block or confront Bucky as often as he could, even though Bucky wasn't trying to score. It made Bucky want to actually spar with the man; he seemed on par with Natasha in skill, yet Bucky didn't have any built-in chivalry to hold back when going against T'Challa.

"I'm impressed," Stark's voice abruptly echoed throughout the sphere. "Twenty-five minutes, and you're all tied up at 18. So, I'm going to drop the hammer and bring on the party."

Instead of calling the match a draw as Bucky thought had been Stark's intention, the lights abruptly went out.

"I don't see how this is a party!" Natasha yelled out from somewhere above him.

She seemed just as surprised as Bucky. As were some of the others judging by the grumbles and a couple of 'fuck yous' aimed in Stark's direction.

"Wait for it," came from Stark.

While everyone just hung onto whatever they'd been near, or just floated, tiny lights began to outline each surface of the solid shapes, while others spiraled around the poles and the rest of the fixed elements within the sphere. Pin lights made the balls glow, while muted spot lights shined on the goal cups. Even their coveralls now had some kind of almost neon-sharp piping: gold for the Avengers and blue for Mar-vell. As Bucky's eyes began adjusting to the new illumination, he couldn't help but smile while others around him frowned. It was like being out in the Black. No more distractions, just things to avoid or approach, and clearly defined objectives.

"New rule. First one to score with a _red_ ball wins," was all the Stark said. "Ricochet not required. Oh, and the balls won't turn red if they sense body heat. "

 

Three balls got pitched out into free space; a fourth one came out of the wall. It wasn't red either.

No one seemed anxious to make the first move. Stark wasn't giving any hint on how long it would take before one of the balls turned red, or even how close one had to be to be sensed.

Then, as if there had been some sort of signal, Sam and Jones both pushed off their nearest surfaces, Sam with one downward draft of his wings, while Jones fell into a twist pike that gave her the greater speed.

"Once they're red, they stay red, right?" Jess asked Stark.

"Once they've been red for five seconds," Stark answered back and, yeah, at the least the implication in that proved true, as the ball Jones dropped toward had just turned red, but then immediately turned back to blue.

Those first moves, proved to be the catalyst, as almost everyone else also started scrambling to give themselves impetus again. In the next instant both Clint and Danvers were being crowded by two others, so there probably was something to them playing with a handicap. Bucky had seen Clint flip bottle caps and balls of paper into the recyclers without missing, but he'd figured it was just a thing. Like the way one of the resistance fighters he'd met in _his_ war never missed when pitching a card into a hat, and had even been able to throw one or two with enough force and aim to slice through hoses on an enemy's spacesuit or fighting armor.

Watching two more balls be tossed away when they didn't stay red, it looked like the body heat thing was triggered just shy of a foot away. It was kind of funny the way no one seemed willing to just wait for the damn things to turn red, all of them trying to be the first to snag one at just the right second. Bucky played along, propelling himself over and then tossing a ball away too. That got his defender – Cage – to shift his attention toward the ball speeding away. Bucky pushed up on a ring and dropped down to another ring that he grabbed and hung down from, the full length of his prosthetic. Which was twenty-four and a half inches long; just one of the details that he and Cho had gone over and over on. Like the temperature of his new arm being ninety-five degrees. Even counting his head, which he bowed forward, the second ball he held in two fingers while the rest gripped the bar should be at least a foot away.

It took eight and a half seconds for the ball to change to red.

Bucky started swinging his feet. He let go on the third upswing and let himself fall backward, keeping his vibranium arm outstretched above his head. The nearest goal was still a good distance away, but none of the others occupied the empty spaces between Bucky and the wall. The two who could artificially enhance their speed were nearly the diameter of the sphere away, and even if someone got tossed by Thor, Clint, or Cage, Bucky doubted they could cross the distance in time. That left someone tossing another ball to deflect his as he gave it a push, which wouldn't be easy, not even for Danvers or Clint, given the way human eyes perceived moving light in the dark.

Rand gave a good attempt to reach the ball thanks to a monster swing by Cage, while Danvers had managed to grab one of the balls and toss it, but Thor got in the way of both. There wasn't enough time for a second try, not before the red ball passed easily through a gold hole.

"I don't know. Do we allow the tricky Hydran's cheat to count?" Stark asked.

"There are no rules in Calvinball," Bucky reminded him, instead of bristling over Stark's implications as he might have a month ago. He'd worked with Stark enough to know that was just the guy's way: compliments disguised as accusations or criticisms, along with other, extremely awkward and sometimes inappropriate social miscues when it came to personal emotions or friends. Bucky still wasn't sure he _liked_ Stark, but since most of his own charm had fallen down the deep, dark hole that was Hydra, it wasn't like he had much room to criticize someone else with similar issues.

"He is right, friend Stark," Thor boomed out. "The only rules in your most pleasurable Calvinball are the ones so stated at the beginning of play. Yon James got a red ball through the goal before any of the rest of us. Therefore, our side had fulfilled the terms of the challenge and should be declared the winner. Of course, that also means it is our duty to host the celebration for such a well-earned victory. I gladly offer up my home for all combatants to drink, feast, and make merry, say in three hours' time?"

"Who am I to argue with a good feast?" Stark acquiesced. "Or someone who can game the system, especially when I was the one rigging it. The win goes to Team Avenger, we all owe Barnes a drink, and not even you, T'Challa, get to be a sore loser and skip the celebration after, at our good buddy Thor's. Bring the whole Dora Milaje and call it fostering human-Asgardian relations if you must, but be there."

"I take all of my duties and responsibilities seriously, Stark, including those of goods sportsmanship. I will be there. What I wonder, however, is which between the two of us, will stay the longer? I am busy, while you simply get distracted by something else – "

"Wait a minute! How did this go from a chance to rag on Barnes to picking on me?" Stark interrupted.

"When doesn't someone take the chance to pick on you, Stark?" Danvers said. "But I won't, if you turn on the damn lights."

"What? Oh, right. Lights on twenty-five percent in five seconds. That should be enough to get you all out. Remember, orientation is red being 'down' when you reach the doors."

Instead of immediately heading toward the walls, however, everyone – even Danvers' people – converged on Bucky with congratulations, comments and pokes at his prosthetic, and a quick kiss by Clint to Bucky's cheek.

"So do you think I passed my test?" Bucky asked Clint as they finally headed toward an exit.''

Clint laughed. "You kept your head, were able to improvise, and showed Tony up, though I doubt very much he 'forgot' that the prosthetic he designed doesn't radiate at the same temperature as your body. The ship might be his, but we all have a say in who we crew with. I don't foresee any of us saying no, but worst case, I'm pretty sure Carol would find space for you on hers."

"If you're worried about when Rhodes comes back, don't," Natasha offered from her position slightly above him and Clint. "Tony wasn't alone in the control room, and having three people so aptly qualified for EVAs just means we can take on bigger jobs."

"I don't need bigger, but I would like to get started on one," Wanda said over her shoulder from her position ahead of the rest of them next to Thor. "I certainly enjoy the comforts and wonders of Neo Wakanda, but I miss going out. I also have had a feeling over the last couple of weeks that if we don't go out soon, we're going to miss something we need to find."

"Don't you going saying things like that, Wanda," Sam protested. "Next, Natasha or Clint will start staying they're bored, and nothing good ever happens when you have a feeling, or those two get bored."

"Hey, if you can't keep Tasha from getting bored, you've got a different kind of problem," Clint teased. "As for me?" he added with a squeeze of Bucky's hand, "boredom isn't even on the horizon."

Bucky blushed, even though no one turned to look his way or make an obvious innuendo before they passed out of the sphere. Even without having met Clint, he couldn't imagine becoming bored very soon, but he certainly wouldn't mind a little familiarity to go along with all the changes in his life. Work would give him that, along with a sense of accomplishing something useful. If the crew wanted him, he would say yes, and figure out how to make it all work with his and Clint's relationship as they went along.

*********

"Three hours. That gives us enough time for a private celebration."

"I'm game, but are you sure?"

"I've got nowhere else I need to be, and I seem to remember promises being made about your new prosthetic."

"Well, I am a man of my word. And actions."

******

"I thought I was the brooding loner in this relationship," Bucky called out, lest he startle Clint from where he'd set himself on the edge of the building, his legs hanging over the sides that went down for something like three hundred feet. Bucky had never considered himself acrophobic, but Clint's ease with narrow ledges and lack of even a little fear about falling was something else entirely. He supposed some of it was due to Clint's spatial awareness, which in turn most likely led to why Clint had his reputation as one of the better pilots on Neo Wakanda. Maybe once he got to see Clint in a cockpit, he wouldn't have the same flutters in his stomach, but even if he did, caring about someone else's well-being was still a novel and welcome feeling.

"Not a loner. And I don't brood, I get even," Clint responded with a quick smile over his shoulder. "But things get loud and confusing with so many people, even if they don't include Asgardians. I needed to give my ears a break."

He started sliding backward, still sitting, but no longer right on the edge. When Bucky moved to sit next to him, Clint brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around his legs.

"Nat thought it might be something like that," Bucky said. "She's also the one who suggested I try the roof."

"I never get tired of the views from Thor's embassy."

Clint's position should have screamed defensiveness, but his tone and expression didn't jibe. And the view was pretty spectacular; when the Asgardians had requested space for an embassy on Neo Wakanda, they'd been given the top ten floors of an arcology in the government sector, embedded within and midway up the artificial mountain that overlooked the rest of Top-Side. They were high enough that when Bucky looked straight up, he could just make out the curvature of the station, although when he looked out as Clint had been doing, the optical tricks that had been built into the colony still held that he was looking at a planet's sky.

He looked over to Clint again, this time seeing the piece of paper in Clint's left hand. "Is that what you're not brooding about?"

He got another smile.

"Yeah. Carol brought it for me," Clint answered, turning to look back, though he had one eye mostly closed and his cheeks were flushed. "So, one of the things I hadn't gotten around to telling you yet, is that I used to work for SHIELD. Tasha and I both did. And my ex still does. The note's about her."

"Is she in trouble?" Bucky asked quickly, not sure how he felt hearing about an ex that Clint was still in contact with. Clint looked embarrassed enough – and Bucky trusted him – to assume he was telling the truth, but that didn't mean they weren't still connected. Bucky already felt left out of so much of Clint's life, given all of his friends were first Clint's friends. On the flip side, of course, Clint still didn't know much about Bucky's former life – lives if you counted his time before and after cryofreeze. And Clint was willingly opening up now.

"Not really," Clint replied. "At least Phil doesn't think so. The note is actually from him."

"Phil, as in Phil Coulson?"

Clint nodded, his expression turning curious about Bucky knowing the name. "He, Tasha, and I worked as an action response team."

"I got handed over to SHIELD and Coulson's current team after Murdock and Nelson won my freedom in the Union Court. Coulson helped a lot with my reclamation."

Clint's smile turned fond. "Phil's a really good guy. He helped me transition into SHIELD from the military, and was instrumental in getting SHIELD to trust Natasha when I brought her in."

A story, there, at least two, actually, but those were questions for the future. Clint seemed to agree, as he gestured with the letter and continued with that.

"Anyway, Tash and I sometimes still do the odd assignment for SHIELD if Phil or Fury asks. Which is basically what this is. Only I don't want to leave right when you're joining the crew."

Bucky wasn't going to go all noble; he didn't want Clint running off somewhere right now either. He also wasn't going to whine if that's what ended up happening, however. "Can someone else better do the job?"

Clint shrugged. "Better, probably, but not easier. Bobbi's on a long-term undercover assignment running a bar on Iliad."

"Which is on Europa and also known as a sanctuary for smugglers, pirates, and other renegades," Bucky said, mostly to himself. Clint knew all that. Even _Bucky_ had known about Iliad. "Even Hydra won't try to annex Iliad, but they're more than happy to take advantage of all of anti-Union inhabitants."

"SHIELD is just as guilty of finding its lawlessness useful," Clint pointed out. "They hold an auction there every few weeks or, sometimes, every couple of months. A lot of what gets bid on is just junk or the kind of things SHIELD and the military don't feel are threatening enough to use as a reason to make a move on them. Sometimes, though, it's items like Asgard or Kree tech; something that would be very bad if it ended up in the hands of Hydra or anti-government factions."

"And that's what Bobbi thinks is coming up?" Bucky guessed.

Clint nodded. "Bona fides for a salvage claim are on offer. Some sort of vibranium artifact or weapon that's not going to be explained until the auction. Now, technically, SHIELD could send a representative there to make a bid, since Iliad is completely neutral territory. But Fury's worried that if he sends an official rep, SHIELD's presence would artificially grant a greater importance to the claim."

"And trigger Hydra's interest." Hydra had sent Bucky to a few of those kinds of auctions as a bodyguard to Von Strucker, Whitehall, and, once, even Pierce. They never bothered trying to hide their interest or involvement, and they very, very rarely lost out on the bidding.

"Even Stark making a bid would skew its value. But, same as very few people out there knew Tasha and I ever worked for SHIELD, they don't know we now crew with Stark. If someone does know or remembers either of us, it'll be from when we were undercover as smugglers, or from even before that."

Bucky made a noise, because that was just too much revelation to let slide.

Clint grinned. "Natasha's story is her own, but mine's simple enough. My brother Barney got sick of Belt mining, so he stowed us away on a cargo ship. The ship turned out to be one of Carson's. Why they didn't just space us, I still don't know, but we ran with them for thirteen years. A job went bad in the end, and I jumped ship and joined the Marines."

Even on Hydra, Bucky had heard of Carson's smuggling operations. No one had been sure if there was or had ever been a Carson, but the names of some of the ring's captains: Trickshot, The Swordsman, and Taskmaster, were well known and well feared. Bucky doubted Clint had just 'jumped ship'. Carson's people were a lot like Hydra; once you were theirs, they never willingly let you get away. But like so many of the other little tidbits of his past Clint was giving him, the full story could wait.

"So what is SHIELD asking you to do?" He spun so that he was facing Clint instead of looking out over the station.

Clint turned and rested his head against his knees, apparently willing to meet Bucky's gaze as he explained, although he didn't unclench and, this time, the defensiveness was palpable. "Head out to Iliad and find out if the claim really is something worth pursuing. Bobbi thinks Hydra already has people there sniffing around about it, which pretty much implies the answer is yes, but someone needs to evaluate whether official action should be taken or something off the books. The auction is scheduled two weeks from now, which would give me time to do the investigation and determine whether I need to bid on it, SHIELD needs to, we let it go, or I try to find out the salvage location before the auction so I convince Tony we should go after it. It's still legally free for anyone to exploit as no formal claim has been filed."

"Most of those options will put you at odds with at least several sets of players," Bucky protested.

"I'm pretty sure Tasha will come as back-up."

"So will I."

That got Clint to unclench, if only so he could flail his arms. "I can't ask that of you, Buck. It's too close to Hydra, and way, way too soon."

Bucky shook his head. "First off, you're not asking, I'm insisting. Secondly," he continued, shooting up two fingers on his prosthetic, "whether it's too soon is my decision, not anyone else's." He softened his tone to add, "Not even yours."

"Bucky – "

"No, I get it, and I appreciate how all of you are looking out for me. But I'm not going to collapse if I see someone I knew when Hydra kept me indentured. Nor do I think they're going to do anything, even if someone recognizes me in return. They lost their case before the Union Court. Violating that could lead them to being declared a rogue colony, and I assure you, I'm no one who's worth even mild sanctions, much less war. They would also have to recognize me, first, and I assure you, I don't look anything like I did. I was short-haired and clean-shaven, not to mention underfed.  But even if none of that was true – even if you had the entire crew of   _Avenger_ with you as back-up – I'd still be coming. That's who we are now. People who share their burdens and responsibilities as well as a bed." Bucky reached over and pulled Clint's nearest hand into his.

"I had a brother, once, or closer than. Someone who was the other half of me. We were going to change the world. When I joined the military, Steve was a step behind me, even though he was this skinny, sickly runt who dreamed of drawing pictures, not guns. And we fought next to each other, right up until we couldn't, until I was lost."

Clint squeezed Bucky's hand. "You've looked for him, since you got free?"

Bucky shook his head. "He got lost, too. Our whole damn ship, actually. Some of the guys, though, got found right away, and they looked. Steve's gone. I'm not going to let that happen to you. At least not while I'm sitting back somewhere on my ass and I only get told about it. I couldn't take it again."

Clint nodded. "Okay. You and me."

"Til the end of the line."

– finis –


	2. Map of the Solar System

[](http://awit.com/AO3%20art%20files/Winterhawk%202017%20Solar%20System.jpg)


	3. The Timeline

**_TimeLine:_ **

 

2023 - 2043:         Medical breakthroughs in immunotherapy and stem-cell repurposing begin to cure many diseases, disorders and illnesses

2030 - ongoing:    waystations/tourist & business space stations established around various Earth & Moon L-Grange points; communications satellites established around the Moon; further drone and robotic missions to the inner and outer planets and other celestial bodies within the Solar System

 

2025:     **Primus,** the first long-term space station colony at Earth-Moon L-point #1 established (station keeping required)

 

2028:     First Lunar research bases (surface of the South Pole and lava tubes near the Marius Hills in Oceanus Procellarum)

 

2029:     **Alpha** , first long-term Moon Base within Shackleton Crater (South Pole), along with a materials harvesting base there and near the North Pole

 

2031:     First Lunar space elevators connect between the harvesting bases to Lunar relay space stations

 

2037:     Lunar materials handling & rudimentary shipyard is built above North Pole of Moon

 

2038- 2063:          In vitro gene therapy eliminates many inherited diseases and disorders

 

2041:     Arc reactor/generator large-scale models work using Zero Point Energy

 

2045:     Alpha becomes **Anpao** as the Shackleton Crater is domed to create a colony habitat  25 mile diameter/5,000 feet depth from surface at its lowest point

 

2053:     First manned Mars mission

 

2055:     Carbon nanotube technology greatly enhances the durability and flexibility of materials, enabling the explosion of off-world habitats

 

2076:     First Mars research Base

 

2082:     Open source 3-D printing for all on many consumable goods; waning of corporate cultures of greed/profit-based capitalism (research and advancements are still mostly privately funded and highly competitive, the rise of engineers, makers, artisans and crafters)

 

2086:     Large scale ion drives and EM drives cut space travel times in half

 

2093:     Venus terraforming project gets underway (initially planned to take 800 years)

 

2099:     First self-sustaining arcology habitat built on Earth

 

2112:     Rursus, aka **Neo Wakanda** (the name and government change takes place in 2273) becomes the second long-term space station colony, in orbit at Mars-Sun L#3

 

2131:     Artificial Gravity breakthrough

 

2149: **Oya** , first major Mars Colony

 

2166-2179:           Initial Asteroid bases established (Ceres1 & 2, Vesta1, Eros1, Kleopatra)

 

2175-ongoing:      Existing planetary colonies expand to include surface arcology habitats

 

2204:     Nanite and stem cell regeneration become commonplace; Humanity can expect typical lifespans of 200-300 years

 

2213:     Mars terraforming project gets underway (will take 500-700 years)

 

2216:     Tertium aka **SHIELD,** becomes third major Terran space colony, in orbit at Jupiter-SunL#1 (the name and government change takes place in 2273)

 

2228:     Designer babies (full genetic modifications) – banned in 2250

 

2244:     Bucky is born

 

2245:     Steve Rogers is born

 

2247:     Vibranium discovered to be common in the asteroid belt

 

2262- 2273: Colonies War breaks out over vibranium

 

2265:     Natasha Romanova is born

 

2271:     Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers lost when their ship, _Howling Commando,_ is crippled and all hands abandon the wreck

 

2271:     Nick Fury born

 

2272:     First alien contact (Asgardians)

 

2277:     Titan base established (Moon around Saturn); becomes a joint Terran-Asgardian base in 2297

 

2285:     Phil Coulson is born

 

2289:     Tony Stark is born

 

2291:     **HYDRA** base established on Callisto (Moon around Jupiter)

 

2291:     Bruce Banner is born

 

2293:     Clint Barton is born

 

2294-2298:           Human-Kree War

 

2295:     Bucky's cryo-pod is found by Hydra salvagers

 

2299:     Clint and Barney's parents are killed

 

2299:     Carol Danvers is born (first/only human/Kree in-vitro hybrid)

 

2299:      **Iliad** based established on Europa (Moon around Jupiter); becomes a neutral base (not a signatory to the Union) and haven for smugglers  & pirates

 

2300:     Wanda and Pietro Maximoff are born

 

2309:     Clint joins the Terran Space Marines

 

2314:     Triton base (Moon around Neptune)

 

2319:     Clint transfers from Marines to SHIELD

 

2327:     Bucky is identified by Jessica Jones, liberated by the Heroes For Hire, and freed through Matt Murdock and the Terran Court

 

2327:     Clint leaves SHIELD to work for Tony Stark

 

2328:     The story begins


End file.
